


Whiskey and Wine

by Opo



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age 2, Fenris - Fandom, Hawke - Fandom
Genre: Betrayl, Children, Complications, Court, Elves, F/M, Forbidden Love, Hate, Hurt, Love, Mages, Magic, Nobility, Passion, Royalty, Shock, Slavery, Surprises, change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-28 21:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 19,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opo/pseuds/Opo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would have happened if Hawke had given Fenris up to Danarius, had he come three years earlier? What if after their one night Hawke had ended up pregnant? What if Hawke sided with the Templars and became Viscount? ... What if Fenris came back, years later, seeking answers and possibly even revenge? Would he exact revenge or would his love for Hawke stop him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As you guys may have guessed by now, this is one big story of "what ifs." It was actually inspired my a music video I saw on YouTube (I'll give the link later) and made this story begin to weave itself in my really weird mind and I couldn't help but think "Wow, I actually like where this is going." Which in turn got me here so I could share it with all of you wonderful readers. :)
> 
> Also I wanted to let you guys know that I'll likely be putting up a Elder Scrolls: Skyrim fanfiction one of these days soon.
> 
> Female (Rogue) Hawke: Default looks (without scar) but longer hair.
> 
> Enjoy you guys! :)

He walked into the building unnoticed, his black hooded cloak effectively obscuring every detail of his person. The Viscount Keep was just as he remembered it, though it now hosted Hawke's family emblem. The emblem made his temper flare, old anger and bitter resentment flaring to life in his chest. He had exacted his revenge on Hardiana, Danarius and his traitorous sister. Now it was time for the finale, the one he likely held the most hatred for...simply because Hawke was the only one he had truly loved.

 

He was surprised that he had managed to get into the Keep so easily and without detection. The city guards outside had cast him a few curious glances, but all in all it seemed that either no one recognized him or no one cared. Most likely it was the latter. _Maybe_ , he thought, _the people of Kirkwall have simply forgotten everything that had occurred a year ago._

 

Four years. He had been away for four years but he had kept tabs on the going-ons of Kirkwall. He knew all about how Hawke had sided with the Templars in exchange for her sister staying alive and safe. He knew how she had killed Anders. He knew how she had defeated both Meredith and Orisino. And he knew that she was now Viscount of Kirkwall, had been for the past year.

 

And, of course, he had heard _plenty_  on how the circle before had been wiped clean - with the exception of Bethany - and how a mage, namely Anders, had blown up the Chantry. So it was more than a surprise for him to see that the Chantry had been fully rebuilt. Later he would contemplate how exactly she had managed to accomplish such a feat but not now. In that moment, the only thing than ran through his mind was how he was going to kill Elisabeth Hawke.

 

~~~

 

Elisabeth Hawke stood on the balcony in her official Viscount office with her arms crossed, mournful eyes scanning the city she now ruled. It was a road she would rather die than repeat. Looking back, she had made too many rash decisions, been ruled by emotion too much. It was not a mistake she would repeat, she would be sure of that.

 

Regretted memory after regretted memory began to surface, flashing though her mind with amazing speed and she reflexively screwed her eyes shut in an attempt to banish them. She knew, though, that they would never go away; they would haunt her forever and the pain she recieved from them every time they did surface was exactly what she deserved. She had given Isabela to the Qunari, she had made Fenryll tanquil, she had handed Merrill over to the Dalish after they had been forced to kill Marithari, she had killed Anders with a stab to the back and the worst of them all...she had surrendered Fenris to Danarius.

 

All times that she had been completely and utterly ruled by emotion, ruled by anger, betrayl, and hurt. Now she distrusted any emotion but love, compassion, and kindness. 

 

Her body trembled subtly but violently ad the tears began to roll down her cheeks, her fingers digging into her clothed arms. The hatred she held for herself stirred within her and the disapproving voice within her - likely the voice of her conscience - became louder.

 

It was only in the back of her mind that she even registered the sound of the door to her office opening and closing softly.

 


	2. Chapter 2

He had imagined many possibilities of what might happen when he was finally face to face with Hawke, but never had he imagined this. She had rearranged the room so that the desk was pressed up against the left wall as opposed to directly in front of the balcony. It was a difference that had given him an uncomfortably good view of Hawke crumpled on the ground with her arms wrapped around her, attempting to quiet the sound of her obviously heart-felt sobs.

 

It angered him that seeing her in such a state still hurt him. He grit his teeth against the urge to walk over and hold her, to soothe her pain. This was the woman that betrayed him the most, this was the woman he had come here to kill.

 

"Isabela..." He snapped back to attention at hearing her mention the pirate, curiousity getting the better of him as he listened to her moan names in between sobs and gasps. "Fenryll... Merrill... Anders..." He had to grit his teeth at hearing the abomination's name, taking comfort in the anger that flared back to life in his chest. Anger he could deal with, anger he understood...not whatever it was that he felt at seeing Hawke cry.

 

"Fenris!"

 

He tensed, thinking she had finally realized his presence, only to be disappointed. She still had her back to him, still was completely unaware of everything but her own...grief?  _She's grieving?_  The concept took him off guard and he wasn't sure exactly what to think of it.

 

"Oh Maker, I'm so sorry...all of you...I'm so sorry. If I could talk to you all just one more time...you would know that I hate myself as much as you must hate me..."

 

Seeing her current state, Fenris almost believed her. But almost believing wasn't believing and her even  _thinking_  she knew what he felt towards her enraged him. Silently he approached her from behind, being sure to make the last footstep loud enough so that she would hear. "You know nothing," he growled.

 

Hawke stood abruptly, having not even been aware she had fallen to her knees, and spun on her heels to face Fenris. The evidence of her tears was prominent - red eyes, stained cheeks, collar of her clothes clearly damp - and again it spurred that infuriating urge of his to comfort her. His marking began to glow and before he could think about it twice, her fazed his fist into Hawke's chest and gripped her heart.

 

The pain in her chest was worse than anything she had ever experienced but she grit her teeth against it regardless, refusing to cry out. It was something Fenris respected about the woman, that she didn't scream or cry or beg for mercy. Respect was not what he wanted to feel for the woman, however.

 

The door creaked open behind them and he watched as Hawke's eyes grew large and panicked.

 

"Mommy?"

 

"Fen, get out now!"

 

Fenris spun his head around in shock. " _Mommy?"_ In all the time that he had been keeping tabs on Kirkwall, he had never once heard of Hawke being a mother. The boy's look shocked him even more. White hair, slightly paler skin than his own, bright blue-green eyes and ears with a slight point to them.Now it wasn't just the fact that she was a mother that shocked him, but the fact that she was mother to a child that was clearly part elf.

 

"Fen get out of here now!" she shrilled at the boy. Narrowing her eyes to Fenris, she hissed, "If you are going to kill me then kill me now, but if you so much as harm a single hair on his head I swear I will..."

 

"I'm not in the business of killing children, Hawke," Fenris snapped, turning back to glare at Hawke.

 

"What are you doing to my mommy?" The small boy stepped forward, a familiar defiant look in his eyes. "You let go of my mommy, mister, or I'm gonna hurt you!"

 

"Where is his father?" Fenris growled to Hawke.

 

"Why do you care?"

 

"I won't leave a child orphaned. I've seen too many orphaned children get trapped into slavery."

 

"His father is currently holding my heart, as he has always," Hawke hissed under her breath so that only Fenris could hear.

 

He reeled back in shock, releasing her heart in the process. The small child, maybe about four years of age if not a bit less, rushed over to his mother's colorful skirts and stood in front of her in a protective manner. Once again Fenris inspected the child, wide-eyed and dumb-struck at both the similarities and the realization that he was a father. He watched numbly as Hawke's slender hand reached down and rested on the boy's head, her eyes soft as she looked down at him. "It is alright, little Fen, everything is fine now. Go back to Auntie Aveliene and your cousin Jessica."

 

Fen hesitated, glaring up at Fenris before finally nodding his head and listening to his mother. Once the door had clicked closed behind the boy, Hawke sighed and gripped the stone railing in an attempt to hide how badly her hands were shaking. "We have a lot to discuss, it would seem."

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

"What is his name?"

 

Elisabeth stood on the balcony facing Kirkwall, her hands gripping the stone railing. Fenris sat in the corner of the room, holding his head in his hands. Almost ten whole minutes had passed between them in silence as both absorbed current events before Fenris had dared to be the first to speak. Having returned to composure as tended to do, tears wiped away and face cleaned, Hawke's voice was clear and steady once more. "Fenris. His name is Fenris."

 

"Were you planning on forcing him into slavery, too?"

 

Hawke winced, but she knew she deserved whatever angry words he would throw at her. "I did wrong by you. For that no words could adequately describe how sorry I am. But no, I would never do that to him. I would kill every other person on this planet before I submitted him to that." The passion she held in her voice when speaking the final sentence both shocked and convinced Fenris. Despite him being away for years, Hawke was still very similar to how she had been and he found he could still read her fairly well.

 

 _Like I had been able to read her four years ago?_  he though bitterly, remembering once again the moment that she had betrayed him. He clenched his hands and teeth as the urge to kill her battled with the urge to hold her. "So why did you name him after me?"

 

"Because I did wrong by you and in a way I hoped that by doing right by him I could make up for a small portion of all the mistakes I made in my youth."

 

She had aged, that much Fenris could tell. Four years ago she joked all the time, smiled often, and laughed when she could. But now that he thought about it, during the short time he had looked in her eyes, the jovial light had been gone. Now they seemed almost hollow in a way, though he didn't know if he thought that simply because he had known what they had looked like four years ago or if that was the general observation. "So the Viscount of Kirkwall has a half elven child. You must be very embarassed."

 

"No, I'm not. I am shamed by my past actions, but not by Fen. I am proud of him and any who say I should be shamed are shamed themselves."

 

Fenris paused for thought as he listened to her. He was trying to find something, anything, about this woman that he could hate. Yet all he was finding was honest remorse and things he couldn't help but respect her for. "You must have married by now."

 

Hawke pushed herself away from the railing and turned to look at Fenris, her gaze strong, steady, and clear. "I will never marry."

 

Slowly he lifted his head to meet her gaze. "Why?"

 

She bit her lower lip and averted her gaze. Her reasons not to marry were ones that were frequently challenged by members of the nobility, but to them she felt no shame in lying. The lied to her constantly in order to try and achieve selfish goals. Though she knew that two wrongs didn't make a right, it did help remind her how being honest to a bunch of snakes would inflict more harm than anything. It was different with Fenris, however. She had wronged him already and so she couldn't bring herself to lie to him, but her reasons for not marrying were ones that she did not wish to speak of. She had a hard enough time writing her reasons in her journal, let alone speaking them out loud. "Will you be staying in Kirkwall?"

 

"I don't know. Nothing has gone as planned today."

 

"Funny how life tends to do that. I'll have your old estate prepared for you," she said calmly as she made her way to her desk.

 

"I would have thought someone would have bought that by now."

 

She stopped with a hand just above a quill. "No, the estate is formally yours." At his questioning look she bowed her head slightly before continuing to write on a piece of parchment with the quill and ink. "As Viscount I ensured that the mansion was officially under your name and was cleaned at least once a week by a special number of servants, all of whom chosen especially by Oranna."

 

"But to formally own an estate in High Town would mean..."

 

She nodded. "You are nobility."

 

"But I'm an elf."

 

"And I don't care." She stood abruptly and narrowed her eyes at him, as though daring him to object. Objections to not only having an elf as nobility but allowing elves to become nobility, as well as giving elves better opportunities in the job market, were things she had become accustomed to.  "As I'm sure you may have gathered, I'm changing some things around here. Should you choose to stay, there will be plenty of time to fill you in."

 

He watched as she walked to the door to her office and called over a servant before handing them the parchment. The day seemed to be full of surprises.


	4. Chapter 4

The mansion looked just as it had four years ago, only infinitely cleaner. It shouldn't have shocked him as much as it did considering how Hawke reminded him several times before he had left. All the old furniture was gone as well, instead replaced with new furniture in dark earth tones that contrasted pleasantly with the silvery-white stone floor. He had never realized that the floor was such a color.

 

"The Viscountess told me also to give this to you." Fenris snapped out of his trance of the place and looked back to the human servant that had escorted him back to the mansion, lest he have forgotten the way in his years away. He looked down to what she held out in her hands and he had to keep himself from barking out in a humorless laugh. A book, she had passed on to him a book of some sorts.

 

The spite towards Hawke nipped at his heels and his upper lips curled back in disgust even as he took the book. _Has she simply forgotten how little I can read?_  He had barely learned how to form the most simplest of sentences before she had betrayed him and since then learning how to read and write hadn't exactly been on his list of things to do. "Thanks," he all but snarled to the servant as he tossed the book into one of the chairs. 

 

"Have I done something wrong, missere?"

 

"No, not you."

 

From the corner of his eye he saw the servant girl curtsy before he spun on his heel and began his ascent to the room he had so frequently stayed within four years ago. He hopes Hawke had not touched that room too much, needing a place that had not suffered her touch. As it was, however, the room had been altered though not nearly as severely as the others seemed to be. The stone floor was like that of the remainder of the mansion - clean, shiney, and an odd silver-white. The fireplace was still where it had been before (had it moved, he would have been both engraged and amazed at the fact that she had somehow achieved to move something such as a built-in fireplace) and the window remained. Other than that, however, nothing seemed the same.

 

There were two hunter green wingback chairs before the fire, a small circular mahagany table with a folded piece of parchment on a golden dish in between them and an ornate clearly Olesian rug underneath. Next to the fire, a set of golden picks, prods, and shovels for before mentioned fire. Where the small table had been now held a dark desk with a whole army of quills, ink and parchment at the ready. To his immediate right up were bookshelves, lined with all the books nobility such as he could desire. The window he had stared out of in contemplation so many times were lined with curtains of a dark brown. Upon closer inspection, he found them to be made of silk.

 

The room enraged him and he swiftly spun on his heel and stormed down to where he had last seen the fair-haired, fair-skinned  human servant. To his surprise, she stood exactly where he had left her before and he made a mental note to ask he why she hadn't left; but for the time being his mind was busy with something else entirely. "If you want some extra coin or some fine decorations, come this way now." The servant woman jumped at first, clearly surprised, before taking at a run to the room Fenris had just vacated. "Take whatever you like. If you need help bringing it to your place I will carry things for you."

 

The woman paused for a moment before slowly turning to Fenris with wary eyes. "Are you sure, missere?"

 

"I'm sure. Take it all if you wish. I have no desire for such things." As she went about the room filling her arms with everything she could carry, Fenris went to the circular table between the two chairs and picked up the piece of parchment. He didn't know why he bothered even looking at it, considering how little he could actually read, but he felt compelled to at least take a look.

 

 _Fenris -_

 

 _Here is a list of people to aid in your reading and writing._

 

 _Alain Underrige_

 _Kellyn Hoyst_

 _Gregoir Frost_

 _Demitri Orlain_

 

 _You may also call upon me, should you wish._

 

At the bottom was the Hawke crest. _Of course it was from Hawke,_ he thought as he crumpled it and threw the wad of paper into the fire vehemently. He wasn't sure whether he should be pleased that she had thought to provide him a list of tutors or if he should be insulted by her insistantly using only simple language in the note. "Why were you just standing there?" he asked the woman in an attempt to distract his mind.

 

She stilled for a moment, unaccustomed to the question and unsure of how to go about responding. The nobles she normally served never asked such things, but they had all been born nobles and so were accustomed to the rules that servants abided. "Permission to speak freely?"

 

"Yes, and never ask that again. While in my company I only want people to speak plainly and honestly to me, yourself included."

 

"You didn't tell me I was dismissed and I'm supposed to wait for your command to go."

 

"Who told you to do that? Hawke?" he snarled as he spun on his heel to the woman.

 

The woman paused, clearly unsure of what to do. She had never had to participate in such an odd conversation before, least of all with nobility. "No, missere. All servants are taught to wait as such."

 

His templer cooled slightly as he turned around to the fire once more, watching the last bit of the parchment turn to ash. "I see. Let me make this clear then: while in my house and around me, you are as good as a free person. Speak as you want, come and go as you desire. I have not gotten this far in life unable to process honesty and cuelty, and I have not lived this long by being unable to take care of myself."

 

"The Viscount had told me as much, but I felt it safer to wait and see for myself first."

 

Again he turned his head to look at the woman. "Hawke told you to behave with me as you would any other?"

 

She nodded. "Me and every other servant in Kirkwall. She told us that though you are nobility, you won't want to be treated as the other nobility and likely won't even like having servants. Said for us to treat and speak to you as we would our own family."

 

So Hawke had decorated his mansion as though she believed him to be expecting only the finest things and yet told servants to treat him as though he were just like them? It didn't add up. "Tell any other servants here to take anything made of gold or silk as they wish. And take any books you like," he said as he turned and headed for the door. He needed to walk, needed to process everything.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone that has commented and kudo-ed! I love hearing from you guys and knowing that I'm doing a good job - but remember, I also want to know when I've mis-stepped and made a mistake! Also, don't forget that I'm completely receptive to suggestions, so if you have an idea for the story don't be afraid to let me know.
> 
> Enjoy everyone!

"I don't like him," Fen pouted as he played with his supper.

 

Elisabeth Hawke stopped with her soup spoon just barely touching her lips. "Who don't you like?" she asked as she set her spoon back into her soup bowl. The boy didn't like many people, often having bad feelings about particular nobles of the court. They were feelings Hawke had learned to heed, as too often they were spot on.

 

"That man from earlier, the one from your study. I don't like him. He was mean to you."

 

Her eyes softened as she reached across to gently lay a hand on top of the boy's head. "You should not dislike him so, little Fen. He has good reason to be mean and angry with Mommy."

 

"But you're so nice! You've never treated anyone unfairly." For being scant months from four years of age, Fen spoke more maturely than others. She wasn't sure if it was because of his heritage or because he had mostly grown up in court, surrounded by well-educated and propper speaking individuals. Regardless of the cause of his advanced speech, there was no denying that he learned quickly and was more than willing to ask questions. It was a trait that would serve him well in the future, of that she was sure.

 

"I was not always nice, little Fen. Once, many years ago, I was very mean. A bully, if you will. That man you saw earlier - I was very mean to him years ago."

 

"What happened then?"

 

"After I hurt that man from earlier, I realized how wrong it was to be mean. How wrong I had been. So I learned and I continued. Sometimes I learned things very slowly, but learning does not always come as easily to everyone as it does to you." She smiled to her boy, pride blossoming in her chest. 

 

The boy seemed to contemplate the thought for a moment before he continued to play with his food. It was a habit Hawke had yet to rid him of, though thankfully not one he pursued in public. As she removed her hand from his head she thought on how similar he looked to his father. One day she would tell him that the man he disliked was the man he was named after, the man she had betrayed, the man he had just proclaimed distaste for. Hopefully that day could come soon, but she knew that for things like that it would be best to wait to tell him. At the very least wait until he knew his father better and wasn't fresh from saying that he didn't like him. 

 

~~~

 

She sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes focused on something far away. Her mind was awash with memories often at night, but tonight it was one of the memories she focussed on most: the singular night that she and Fenris had shared...

 

 _She couldn't believe what she had just heard. She had given herself to him, given her entire heart and body to him. And now he was leaving her. Just like that. She felt angry and betrayed. Used._

 

 _"I'm sorry. This never should have happened."_

 

 _She didn't hear the sorrow in his voice at that moment, though. In her ears it sounded as though he had realized how hurt she was and how the whole thing had been more to her than just having sex. Perhaps he had realized that she was a virgin. She watched numbly as he turned and began walking towards the door and the anger, hurt, and betrayl mounted within her with every step. She was seeing red by the time that he had gripped the door handle and without a second thought she reached down and grabbed the ceramic pot that stood between her wardrobe and bed and hurled it at him._

 

 _He could have dodged it, could have simply moved with that unnatural speed of his. Instead he simply spun around and let it crash and break against his forearm._

 

 _"Go on, leave!" she yelled, her foreign accent thickening with the emotion and tears welling up in her throat, her voice hoarse. "You got what you wanted now leave! I should have expected this from--"_

 

 _"What, an elf?"_

 

 _"--a man! I heard the story from so many others, listened as the women both in Kirkwall and Lothering cried after giving their bodies and hearts to men only to be left as damaged goods and never thought on by the man again. Sometimes even with a baby in their bellies! Here I thought that you would be different, thought that you were better than that. But I suppose yet again I'm wrong and too late to realize my transgression. Doesn't matter your race or background, all you men are alike."_

 

 _His stunned and hurt look tugged at her heart, but her hurt and anger colored her vision completely and it did nothing to cool the fire within her. He felt completely and utterly silenced, though he knew it was not magically induced. It were her words that had silenced him, the agony in her voice and tears on her cheeks having stopped him in his tracks._

 

 _"Oh, don't let me stop you," she hissed. "You were leaving me, remember? Poor you and your memories - or was that just an excuse to get out of the door while remaining broody? Go on, leave! Leave!"_

 

She had literally pushed him out of her bedroom door that night. Looking back now, she realized that it had been her words that had silenced and stilled him like stone and that what she had said was completely out of line. But no one could take back words already said or correct the mistakes of the past. All anyone could do was try to make things better in the future.

 

By the Maker, she hoped she could make things better. But she had long since resolved in her heart that should Fenris insist upon killing her she would accept her fate. All she would ask is that Fen be taken care of, either by Fenris himself or Aveline and Donnic.


	6. Chapter 6

By the time Fenris had returned to his mansion his head felt clearer, all of the servants seemed to be gone, and every piece of gold from his home had been removed along with a couple of the Orlesian rugs and almost all of the silk curtains. It made the mansion more to his liking and feel as though it was more his. 

 

The fact that he had a son had mostly sunk in, though it still felt somewhat surreal, just as he had come to accept that he was now nobility of Kirkwall. He dreaded most the functions he would likely be requested to attend and the silent judgemental or pitying stares from the other nobles. His appearance alone would cause a commotion, but the fact that he was now also a noble would definitely not help matters.

 

He walked to the stairs and took a seat, leaning back as his hands gripped his knees. His large eyes searched the ceiling of his mansion as though searching for a sign or an answer. Things between Hawke and him had never been smooth sailing, always holding an element of chaos, but things between them now were more confusing than they had ever been. He needed a sign, an answer, anything to let him know how best to proceed. In more ways than one he was a stranger in a strange land.

 

He couldn't help but wonder if Hawke was also experiencing such tumultuous feelings. She had always been able to keep a deceptively calm and collected appearance and now was no different. Besides the scene he had unwittingly walked in on earlier, she had seemed as calm and collected as normal. After what she did four years ago he doubted he knew how to read her at all.

 

The fact that they had a son made things very messy. He could deal with killing her and forfieting the mansion and his status and all those material things...but leaving his _son -_ that he just couldn't bring himself to do. Even more disconcerting was the fact that he was unsure of whether or not he could bring himself to leave him without a mother, especially one that so clearly cared for him. That much had been more than proven to him when he had held her heart in his hand and all she cared about was that her son - _their_ son - was not harmed in any way.

  


  


Unbidden, the memory of how she had looked at him while he had held her heart came back to him. The look in her eyes, the emotion in her eyes...he didn't wish to think on it. Not because he was afraid of what he might think, but because he already knew the emotion that he had seen there and didn't want to face the reality, the implications, of what that look meant.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guess what? I'm on Twitter now. Weird! But if you guys are into that stuff check me out at https://twitter.com/#!/OpoWorks

"Welcome, Sir Fenris."

 

Fenris nodded to the greeter at the door absent mindedly, his green eyes scanning the crowd gathered in the Viscount Keep. Though he had been inside of the Viscount's Keep not even a week ago, having taken a few days to simply sit, mull, and absorb, it seemed to have changed dramatically. The front hall was empty save for nobles milling about and cooing over various baubles and other nobles' fine clothing.

 

The invitation had arrived the day after he had, the messenger having read it out loud to him as a part of his orders before leaving it in the entry way. Within scant hours another servant had shown up to deliver to him clothes of fine make from Hawke. A long black coat with green and gold trim, a well fit black button up shirt, black pressed pants, and find black dress shoes with a medium shine to them. Nothing too fancy, but still something that passed as formal wear. At first when he had recieved the items he couldn't help but wonder why she had gotten him this exact outfit, let alone how she had been able to remember his measurments. But then he remembered a conversation they had years ago while wandering the Hightown market.

 

_"I can't stand some of the outfits the nobles here have."_

 

_"Like mine?"_

 

_He smiled. "No, yours suit you. Plain in coloring, accented just enough to remind everyone that you're still a woman, and more practical than showy. Most of these nobles, though, seem to favor clothing with millions of ruffles, a thousand sequins, and skirts with what could very well be a hundred layers. I'm amazed the nobles are able to walk wearing such things."_

 

_"So if I were ever to get you some fine clothing for when I want you to come with me to a ball...?"_

 

_He couldn't help but smirk at that. He found the idea ridiculous for more than one reason, but he knew Hawke well enough to know that if any noblewoman would be ballsy enough to bring their elven lover to a formal function - and not as a guest or a friend, but as a suitor - it would be Hawke. "I would suggest you keep it as plain as possible unless you changed your mind and wanted to go alone or with someone else."_

 

_She reached over and grasped his hand, smiling warmly up to him. "I would never want to go with anyone else on my arm but you."_

 

But now he could see that she did bring another to the formal functions: their son. It almost made him smile, instead only a corner of him lips tipping up in the faintest of ways. The animosity he held towards her hadn't lessened in the short time since he had arrived, but to see her so loving and affectionate with their son made him happy. She may have done him and many others wrong in her past actions, but at least he could be sure that she would never intentionally hurt or betray their son. It was a small blessing, but a blessing nonetheless.

 

"Fenris, I wasn't expecting to see you here."

 

He turned to see Sebastian ambling up towards him. "Sebastian."

 

Sebastian laughed, in cheerful spirits as always. "Still a man of few words, I see. I must admit, when I had heard that you had returned to Kirkwall I wasn't sure whether to believe it or not. But it would seem that you have indeed returned."

 

Fenris nodded. "Are you still with the Chantry?"

 

"No," he frowned. "After the incident at the Gallows, I knew the Maker and my people needed me to return home and aid our country. So I'm now officially the King of Starkhaven. Hawke was a great help when I first reclaimed my throne, sending financial aid out of her own pocket to help Starkhaven get back on it's feet."

 

"Seems she's everyone believes her to be a saint," Fenris mumbled, resentment clear in his tone.

 

Sebastian's eyes darkened as he scanned the room quickly, possibly searching for someone. "Not everyone. Those that were with her before she became Viscount still have not forgotten all of her betrayls. I know the Maker says that we are not ones to judge others, but I could not help but be angry at her for many years after she betrayed so many. Maker forgive me, but at one point I actually wished her harm, just so that she would see the error in her ways. I have forgiven her for her past trangressions now, but it took me two years of seeing her do all she could to repent for me to fully forgive her."

 

"Do you believe that the Maker has forgiven her?"

 

"I believe so, yes. But I do not believe she has forgiven herself. She does not hate herself as much as she did, though, so I suppose it is progress. We all move through life at our own paces, after all."

 

"So what has brought you to Kirkwall again?" He wanted to stop talking of Hawke. He had been able to think of little else but her for days now, and he was ready for a break.

 

"To see Hawke and her boy, of course, but I also was specifically asked to attend this ball. Besides, my advisor in the Starkhaven court has explicitly suggested to me that a union between Kirkwall and Starkhaven would be very beneficial at this point in time. All of Thedas is in turmoil right now and if a union between two friends can help to bring just a bit of peace, I would happily do such." At seeing Fenris' sudden tense and frigid body language, Sebastian laughed. "Do not worry, Fenris. I will be here for a short while and I will bring up the subject with Hawke privately, but I do not expect her to say yae or nae. Especially not so soon after your arrival." The smile Sebastian flashed Fenris confused the latter man, the former man's smile being one he was more accustomed to seeing on Varric's features. The smile of a jester who knew something, be it a joke or otherwise, that none other was privvy to at that point in time. The smile of a seer who knew of something that was to happen but revelled in watching others flounder as they attepted to figure out what.

 

He hated those smiles. Mostly because when he normally saw them, it meant that something entirely unpleasant was going to happen.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for the past week I have been absolutely stuck on this TV series called Lie to Me and Ryan Star's album "11:59" whose single "Brand New Day" is used for the opening song. I'll be giving you the link to the song shortly so that you guys can listen to it while you read the chapter (I find it invokes a lot of emotion regardless of what I'm reading or doing). I've also been doing more research than normal into body language and so I'll be inputting real body language as well as what said body language means into the story. Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l9vYSBR9nio&feature=related

The ball ended up being more of a reunion than anything else.

 

Not long after his brief but informative discussion with Sebastian, Bethany came into his line of sight. Hers was a face he had not expected to see in the least. After hearing that Hawke has sided with the templars and their decision to invoke the Right of Annulment, he had just assumed that Hawke had betrayed her sister as well regardless that he had heard otherwise. It was all too easy for him to imagine her being the one to give her the killing blow. Yet here she was, dressed in somewhat ellaborate circle robes clearly made of Orlesian silk - no doubt a treat given to her by her sister - and forcing a false smile on her lips. She seemed to be enjoying herself as much as he was, something he didn't find hard to believe. The people of Kirkwall were very clearly still not over what had happened at the Gallows and so mages were treated about as kindly as elves were.

 

"Bethany Hawke."

 

She turned towards Fenris, her face lighting up with a genuine smile at seeing him. "Fenris! Maker it's good to see you."

 

He half smiled to her, his eyes warming slightly.  "It's good to see you too. How have you been?"

 

She half shrugged. "Could be worse." Fenris kept his skeptical gaze steady with hers. Lying was one thing he could pick up on easier than most, an ability he had picked up on faster than most due to his almost life-long exposure to one court or another. Even though the shoulder shrug more indicated that she simply didn't believe what she was saying, it was still a lie of sorts - or that was how he viewed it anyway. There was a pause then Bethany laughed, a sound that was less gleeful than he seemed to remember. "Can't lie to you, can I? Things really are okay, though. Like I said, they could be worse but they could also be better. The people of Kirkwall are more hostile than ever towards mages like myself and though I know my sister is trying to do everything she can to lessen the tension, it's still there."

 

"How do you mean?"

 

"For example, having a few of the more trusted Circle mages attend formal functions like this one. Our mother once told us that she and Father met at a function because the Circle mages were allowed to come to social functions like these to display magic for entertainment. I assume she got the idea from that: we show up here and display some small tricks of magic for the nobles and servants so they could see also a more pleasant side of magic instead of equating magic and mages with the Chantry getting blown up."

 

It was an odd idea, one he hadn't really thought about before. He could see the logic in it though, even if he didn't wholely agree with it. He still held the firm belief that mages should be under constant supervision by the Templars and kept a safe distance away from those whom they might elect to harm. Mages wanting freedom was noble enough, but the risks out weighed the benefits. Few were as strong in will as Bethany. "How is that panning out?"

 

Bethany thinned her lips. "Well enough, everything considered."

 

"You're angry."

 

She smiled to him. "Frustrated, more like it. I understand how the people of Kirkwall must feel - Maker, I'm even angry at Anders for doing what he did - but I just wish they could see that not all mages are like him. Most of us simply want to live in peace and hold no resentment or anger towards the Templars or the Chantry. In fact many of us are very devout in our beliefs in Andraste and the Maker. Lizzie tells me to just be patient, that the wounds are still too fresh and that we just have to continue to show them there is nothing to fear... I know she is right and I completely agree with her, but it's just frustrating sometimes."

 

Fenris nodded in understanding. When horrible things happened, it was human nature to lash out at someone or something. People liked having someone to blame, even when they logically understood that it accomplished nothing outside of creating resentment in the long run.

 

"I'm sorry for what Elisabeth did to you, Fenris."

 

He snapped out of his train of thought at that, looking up at Bethany with genuine surprise. Eyebrows raised, forehead creased, lips slightly parted. "I..."

 

Bethany held up her hand and shook her head. "It's alright, Fenris, you don't have to say anything. Truth be told, I don't think either of us want to dwell on the subject anyway. But I had to say that I was sorry."

 

He smiled to her, a small and awkward smile but a smile nonetheless. "Thank you."

 

She smiled to him, her face brightening up once again. "Well let's go grab some of the food that is being passed around. I don't know about you but I'm absolutely famished."

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo, I got a bookmark! Thank you Antivian. Love the love. :)
> 
> This chapter will be solely from Aveline's point of view and won't have much conversation.
> 
> Remember guys, comment or message me if you have any comments, criticisms, or suggestions for the story line. I love hearing from you guys.

Aveline felt just plain uncomfortable in the ankle-length dress she had been convinced to don for the ball. Donnic and Hawke had all but cornered her the previous night, telling her that she couldn't wear her chainmail to yet another formal function. Aveline was sure that they were right on some level, but sod it, she just didn't feel comfortable in dresses. It was because of this very fact that she was leaning against a wall instead of dancing with the others to the strange foreign music that Hawke had arranged to have. The music itself had a much faster beat than the music that was traditionally played at formal finctions but had a certain levity about it that made evrything seem just a bit more upbeat and happy than normal.

 

She couldn't help but play guard even still, however. Hawke always invited her to the balls as an equal and even though in Kirkwall she was now a political equal,  just as the new Knight Commander Cullen was, she still couldn't help but "play guard" as Hawke joked. Even during formal occasions of all kinds she had behaved just as she did when patrolling the streets with her guards.

 

What really caught her attention though was the way that people interacted with Fenris. He was the first, and currently only, elven noble in Kirkwall - and possibly in all of Thedas - and the way that people acted around him fascinated her. Most of the nobles behaved as expected, sneers at thesight of him, passing insults in hushed conversations though not always hushed enough for others not to hear. Fenris for the most part simply let it slide, probably being accustomed to having been insulted or stared at.

 

Hawke, on the other hand, was not so docile. At one point in all of the rather meaningless mingling, Hawke had overheard one such snotty comment and had proceeded in humiliating the culprit. Having volunteered to help Anders in his clinic, she had come to learn some very interesting facts about certain nobles of Kirkwall. When there had been a medical issue to take care of and they wanted it gone and quietly, the shanty Darktown clinic had been their first stop almost constantly. All it took to put many nobles of Kirkwall in their place was a simple allusion of a rather embarassing condition. It also helped that Aveline and Varric both were still acting as her eyes and ears on the streets.

 

The fact that she had stuck up for Fenris was both shocking and expected. He was the father of her son and so she expected her to stand up for the elven man to a certain degree, but the fact that she had defended him against such a basic insult had shocked almost all of the people gathered. Perhaps it was simply out of defense for her own decision to allow elves to become nobles, but Aveline knew Hawke better than anyone else at this point except for maybe her sister and Aveline just _knew_  that there was more going on that what it seemed. 

 

"Who are you spying on now?"

 

Aveline snapped out of her thoughts and looked over to her husband. He had dressed himself in a simple black and white get-up, favoring simple styles of clothing rather than the more intricate styles. She smiled to him before returning her eyes to the dancing crowd. "More thinking than spying."

 

"Love, thinking and spying tend to go hand in hand with you. Especially when it comes to friends," he said as he leaned against the wall next to her, one of hip arm looping around her waist. Playfully she smacked his chest before leaning into him. "So what exactly were you thinking about?"

 

"Fenris. Hawke. The other nobles." Her vibrant green eyes observed the dancing, Hawke and Sebastian coming into view as they spun around, Hawke laughing at something Sebastian had said. Though knowing Hawke she could also be laughing from something she had seen, something that was vastly considered rude. Then again, Hawke wasn't exactly known for always being to most polite person. 

 

"The ruckus from ealier, in other words."

 

She smiled. The fact that Donnic knew her so well wasn't exactly a shock at this point considering they had spent years working together as well as the last few years being married to one another. It was, however, still a comfort to know that when she was at a loss for words, he could speak them just as eloquently. "Yes. Like most of the people here, I am sure, I can't help but wonder what posessed Hawke to make such a spectacle of the poor man. I expect her to defend her political choices as well as the father of her child, but something so simple as calling Fenris a 'knife-ears?' I just don't see it as enough of a reason to publicly humiliate him like that."

 

"Technically he called Fenris a 'filthy knife-eared pile of nug shit' but I do see what you're getting at."

 

Aveline nodded, her eyes darting over to see Fenris and Varric leaning against the wall adjacent to the one she and Donnic leaned against. "She's trying to pass a motion so that people will be fined for speaking racial slander or racist terms. Perhaps that is why she reacted as she did?"

 

"You and I both know that motion isn't going to pass and Hawke isn't as foolish as to support a motion so publicly that even she must be aware isn't going to pass."

 

Aveline frowned and looked back to Hawke, who now seemed to have a masked grimmace plastered on her face as she danced with one of the nobles visiting from Orlais. The man was clearing annoying her and the fact that he looked similar to that DeLauncet fellow she helped some time ago didn't help matters, she was sure.

 

"You think there's something more than meets the eye."

 

"When isn't there?"

 

Donnic half smiled. His wife had a point - things had always been complicated between Fenris and Hawke; tumultuous at best, apocalyptic at worst. One things had always been clear, however: no matter what happened between them, they always seemed to retain their love for one another. Or at least that had been how it was years ago. He, like so many others, wondered if that rule still applied to them. So much had happened and both people had changed and grown. "All will happen as it should, the Maker knows what he is doing."

 

She placed a hand over one of his and squeezed. "I hope so." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also just to let you guys know, come Feb. 9th I'll be gone for three weeks to a month. I know I know, it sucks, but I'm going on a month long vaca back home to California to visit family and get a bit of inspiration for the novel series I'm working on. I'll post a couple more chapters before I leave and I might be able to get online and post a chapter or two while I'm gone. So don't worry I'll still be updating, but if there isn't an update for over two weeks after Feb. 9th, that's why.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, just got back from vacation. Literally I got in at about nine last night. I was so busy I don't think I breathed for most of it. Sorry I wasn't able to update, like I said I was just really busy. :( Anyhow, here's a new chapter for everyone. Hope you like it!
> 
> By the bye, love the love my newest bookmarker ninjamice! Also, love the name.
> 
> Found another good song for you guys to listen to and is actually my source of inspiration for this chapter: http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&feature=fvwp&v=wb5eb9j19NA

He didn't know how he had begun dancing during the ball but he had. He suspected Varric was to blame--he had just seen the dwarf and nodded his head to his old friend when a mischievious smile spread across his face. Then the dawrf had somehow managed to ghost over close enough to Fenris to push him into the dancing. Fenris also suspected that the other man had slipped a note into his pocket. 

 

Fenris knew that at any point in time he could have simply excused himself from dancing and have that be the end of it but he was secretly intrigued by the variation of responses he got when he traded partners. The reactions weren't just from the noble women either; the noble men also reacted in a variation of ways ranging from curiosity to an almost hope to disgust. He also enjoyed the break from stale polite conversation. When he had simply stood on the sidelines he was frequently tortured with polite questions, knowing fully well that almost none of the nobles were actually interested in the slightest bit. And he could only duck away to try and make it seem as though he were busy catching up with old friends for so long.  
  
The dancing also gave him plenty of opportunity to observe Hawke, who was similarly dancing but had yet to be his dancing partner. She had become better in social situations than he remembered. When he had known her, or thought to have known her as he sometimes wondered was the case, she both loved and loathed nobility. She had loved the parties and pretty clothing though she still prefered the more plain clothing. That, it seemed, had not changed. 

_  
_

_"Why do you buy such things when you are almost never able to wear them?" he had asked years ago._

_  
_

_She spun around to him and smiled, her eyes devoid of the mischievious mirth they usually held and instead cheerfully serious. "When we aren't fighting we're traveling to fight and the whole time I'm wearing some time of leather jerkin or light chainmail. So when I am able to be silly and wear pretty frivolous things I take advantage of it." She cast her eyes slightly down and away as though embarassed. "Besides, it reminds me that I'm a woman. Everything in my life from my weapons to my armor to my haircut is all out of practicality--I'd actually love to have long hair but it can also be a weakness when fighting. After all how easy would it be to simply grab my hair and pull me into being a hostage or impale me on a sword?"_

_  
_

_Fenris shifted his weight at the idea, his very natural and very male instinct to protect Hawke rising within him. He knew though that he had no claim to her though and actually suspected that she was taken with another man._

_  
_

_"So sometimes I forget that I'm a woman," she continued, seemingly unaware of Fenris' reaction. "Pretty clothes make me feel like a woman again."_

 

She seemed to have a higher tolerance for her fellow nobles though, laughing and smiling with her very human dance partners as though they were the most charming being on the planet. It was hard for him to believe that she was the same woman that had once exclaimed over how she loathed the pompacy of the vast majority of nobles. It was equally hard for him to imagine that she wasn't looking for a husband, though it was apparently common knowledge among the people of Kirkwall that she reffused to marry despite a good number of proposals.

 

Another spin and it was with that thought in his mind that he found himself partnered with Hawke herself. Now that she was right before him he could see that the smile that she had seen on her face all evening was as false as the polite kindness that some of the nobles gathered had shown him that night. With a sigh of relief Hawke's smile dropped and she massaged a cheek with her shoulder. "Maker I'm glad I'm partnered with you. All these other noble men expect me to smile and behave like a starstruck maiden. It gets tiring."

 

"Looked as though you were having fun from where I stood."

 

Hawke looked up at him from the corner of her eyes and raised a singular eyebrow. Regardless she chalked up the note of jealousy she thought she heard in Fenris' voice as a figment of her imagination, her hopes getting the best of her. Switching to massage the other cheek with a shoulder she said with as much sarcasm as she could, "Oh loads. Why Sir Poppycock over there is just utterly charming and delightful with his lack of humor and haughty disposition. I daresay the way he looks down his nose at everyone just sets my heart all a-flutter."

 

Fenris couldn't help it, a corner of his lips turned up into an awkward half smile. It was comforting for him to know that she hadn't changed as much as he had first believed. But it also begged the question: If she's still so similar to how she used to be, can I trust her? 

 

"I'm surprised you came," she murmered honestly after a few moments. "I wasn't sure you would even read the invitation."

 

"Weren't sure I would or weren't sure I could?" he replied snippily.

 

She looked up and met his eyes. "Weren't sure you would. Maybe some think you daft Fenris, but I am not one of them."

 

 The comment made him both want to stay and run away. Abruptly he roughly pushed her away and took a step back, starling all of the other dancers into a stop. All eyes locked on the scene he was making, Fenris hung his head so that his shaggy white hair hung over his eyes and shook his head, his fists clenched tightly. "I shouldn't have come," he muttered, his voice gruff.

 

Unsure of what to do Hawke watched as the father of her child turned and walked away, unsure of whether or not she would ever see him again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way guys, I'm actually on the hunt for new fanfictions to read so if you guys have any stories you would like for me to read let me know. I'd love to get a hold of more Fenris/Female Hawke ones, but I'll give anything a shot. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

"Oh Broody, where are you?" Varric sang out as he wandered through the main entry room of Fenris' mansion. The place was cleaner than he had ever remembered it, albeit he hadn't seen the inside of it since a few days after Hawke's betrayl. He had wandered into Fenris' mansion in a mournful daze, partially expecting Fenris to walk down the main staircase slowly, his eyes locked on the dawrf. It had been the way Fenris had greeted everyone but Hawke, still wary around them and unsure of their motives. As though he had partially suspected them to stab him in the back. It was bitterly ironic that the one person he didn't overtly suspect of betrayl was the one to do so.

 

Unbeknownst to him at the time, Hawke had followed him. Varric still didn't regret how he had treated Hawke that day, knowing that every cruel word he had said was well-deserved. Though he didn't regret staying by Hawke's side, he still wondered sometimes why he had after that day.  
  
It had been several days since the ball and though the note he had slipped Fenris before he started dancing had asked for him to meet the dwarf in three days time yet, he felt he should check up on his old friend. He had all but interrogated Hawke on what had been said to make Fenris react in such a manner and her answers had both remained consistant and confusing. From what she had said occurred she gave him a compliment and he just couldn't take it. It didn't quite make sense to him, but he knew that the workings of Fenris' mind had always been a bit odd. So Varric was almost positive that the simple complement hadn't only been a simple compliment.

 

Fenris slowly desended the stairs dressed a black turtleneck and black pants, his eyes warily on Varric. It comforted the dawrf in part to see that this much had at least not changed. "Varric," Fenris finally said once he was at the base of the stairs in way of greeting. He inspected the dwarf, somewhat surprised by the fact that his old's friends taste in clothing hadn't changed any more than his had and was currently wearing something reminisent of what he used to wear. In fact, it almost looked identical to what Varric used to wear for traveling.

 

"So do you want to tell me what happened back there at the ball or should I start guessing?"

 

~~~

 

"Elizabeth?"

 

Hawke didn't need to look up to know that it was Sebastian that spoke to her.  She also didn't need to look at him to know that he was here on business, albeit friendly business. The use of her first name wasn't new, he had used it on several occasions both good and ill, but the pattern remained that he only used it on the most serious of occasions. She glenced up from the curtain of her hair and nodded to the Starkhaven King. "Sebastian...please, come and sit. I just need to finish up this proposal quickly."

 

Sebastian closed the door behind him and walked into the room, his eyes on the piece of parchment that Hawke wrote on. "What is the propoal for?"

 

"In essence, to get rid of those damnable slave statues all over the city."

 

Her answer almost made Sebastian laugh. "Why is that?"

 

"Personal or professional?"

 

Sebastian had to think for a moment. "I believe," he finally said slowly. "That your personal and professional reasons are not independent of one another."

 

Hawke smiled. There had been a point in her life long ago that she struggled between her affections for Anders, Fenris, and Sebastian and on which path she should follow down. It was because of times such as these where Sebastian saw her so well that she had undergone that struggle. Finishing a quick stroke of her quill she replaced it into the ink well and sat back, meeting her eyes with Sebastian's. "You always have been able to see through me eerily well."

 

Sebastian smiled. "I see only what the Maker wills me to see."

 

That was yet another thing that Hawke admired about Sebastian, his unwavering faith. No matter what happened, no matter what personal struggles he underwent, he always had absolute faith in the Maker and his bride Andraste. Hawke had always lacked such devout faith, a reason why she had decided that Sebastian wasn't the man she should be with years ago. A woman that questioned the very existence of the Maker nearly every day did not belong with a man of the cloth, she had rationalized. "I want to get rid of them to wipe away the past, in essence. Kirkwall is no longer a slave trading city--in fact I've ensured that slavery is illegal here as well as hunted down rather...enthusiastically. I have spies everywhere in this city, paid discreetly for every honest tip they give as well as the guard. I've even got what is left of the Circle here hunting them down. I am trying to build a new Kirkwall and so vestiges of the old such as those should be destroyed." Hawke smiled. "And I don't think anyone will object simply because of how depressing those sodding things are to look at."

 

Sebastian nodded in full agreement. The slavery statues were foreboding, creating the most foreboding and ominous welcoming party he had ever encountered. Above all though they were truly just downright depressing. Sebastian also understood that Hawke wasn't only talking about Kirkwall, she was also hoping to rid herself of the statues that reminded her daily of her biggest demon. He could imagine that she had enough reminders as it was, she didn't need imposing copper statues to remind her as well. "I believe you are doing the work of the Maker by getting rid of slavery so enthusiastically. Andaste herself worked to free the slaves and abolish slavery."

 

Hawke smiled and leaned back into her chair, her eyes remaining steady on her old friend and fellow leader. "So what can I help you with Sebastian? I hear you will be staying with us for quite some time, at least a month from what I am told and then just now you used my first name--something you don't do unless there is something you would very much like to discuss."

 

Sebastian smiled to Hawke, pleased just as she had been that Hawke knew him so well. It saved him from having to make polite small talk until he could get to the point he truly wished to discuss. "I am here to court you."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think on how I'm doing! And feel free to give me any suggestions for the story--I consider them all. 
> 
> One more thing--let me know if you guys would prefer for this story to remain a Fenris-Hawke story or become a Sebastian-Hawke story. 
> 
> Love you guys! <333


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since I've updated guys, just fell into a rut of sorts with my stories. So I took a break from it and decided to start on a Skyrim fanfic, give my brain a rest from this fanfic and all that.
> 
> Anyhow, enjoy!

It was a predictable pattern, had been ever since she first picked up the bow as a child. Whenever she was stressed or had something inherintly negative on her mind, she would go outside and practice with her bow. Having never led any sort of stress-free life or life-style, it came as no surprise to anyone that her aim was imprecable with a hit rate of ninety-nine percent within a year of begining practice. She found the entire thing utterly calming in a way that nothing else was, a perfect combination of mindless repitition and calculating thought. The movement was automatic at this point and so freed her mind to solve the problems that arose within her life and the constant calculating thought required to aim and hit dead center kept her from overthinking anything. It also kept her emotions at bay from her line of thought, allowing only pure logic to work its magic.

 

For this particular problem though, logic wasn't exactly the blessing it had been for the past few years. Because, logically, she shouldn't even be  debating whether or not to let Sebastian take her hand in marriage--logically she should have accepted right away and should only now be debating the more minor details. Her life had never been so simple though and so she couldn't help but wonder why the Maker had decided to re-introduce Fenris to her life right before Sebastian's proposal. She had never planned to marry: she had a half elven child and magic running strong in her family's blood. The only thing that made the noble men wish to marry her is the fact that she was a noble herself as well as Viscount. She held no illusions that it was because they truly saw her, her son, and the remainder of her family for what they all truly were and loved, admired, and respected her regardless. No, such a notion would be completely childish as well as naive.

 

Even Sebastian had admitted as much, though more gently. He had been told that he should court her for the good of his country and that was exactly what he was doing. The fact that they were old friends made it both comforting and awkward as sin. Nevermind the fact that they had flirted years ago, before she and Fenris had...well... 

 

Hawke shook her head and in turn accidentally released the arrow. She muttered a curse to herself as she watched it fly away from the target. 

 

The arrow was then neatly plucked from the air from a black gloved hand and turned side to side for an inspection of sorts. Moss green eyes flickered up and caught her cobalt blue ones and she winced at the realization that because of her getting lost in though, she had almost impaled someone with her arrow. A thin black eyebrow raised up at her. "Either you're losing your touch or you were trying to kill me."

 

Hawke smiled appologetically. "I was lost in thought and shook my head at the wrong time. I'll have to move the target so that if it happens again the only thing in danger will be the wall, not whomever just so happens to be standing in the doorway."

 

"Perhaps next time you should think of that before hand," Fenris stated as he walked over and handed the arrow back to Hawke, the jagged tip facing her. Hawke nodded in agreement and took the arrow, being careful not to touch Fenris as she did so. She personally was itching to touch him again, but she didn't knew where he was mentally and emotionally and had decided that she would let him be the first one to make a move. Whether that move was to kiss her or kill her she hadn't a clue, but either way she would accept it.

 

They stood there for one long, incredibly awkward silent moment as Hawke replaced the arrow into the quivver and shuffled her feet. Fenris was, suprisingly, the first to break the silence. "I heard about you and Sebastian." 

 

Hawke blinked and furrowed her brow. "Me and Sebastian?"

 

An animalistic noise escaped from Fenris, sounding almost like a snarl. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. It's all over town how you two are getting married."

 

Hawke groaned and rolled her eyes. The way people talked in the town...it was absolutely ridiculous. "Oh yeah let me tell you what. Cause, you know, I come out and practice with my bow until my fingers are raw every time that I'm overjoyed." His eyes narrowed to wrath-filled slits, causing Hawke's heart to skip a beat. She hadn't dared to hope that he might still have feelings for her instead simply hoping beyond hope that he would forgive her, but his actions and the way he had practically spit out that he had heard she was marrying another... 

 

Still though, she was surprised that Fenris hadn't picked up on the sarcasm that had been dripping from every word and it hurt that some part of him felt that he knew absolutely nothing of her anymore. Granted she couldn't blame him after what had happened, but it still hurt. That she practiced with her bow whenever stressed had been a constant with her for years, a part of who she was, and the fact that Fenris noq questioned the validity of even that simply saddened her.

 

Sighing, Hawke readied another arrow and let it whiz to the center of the target, splitting the arrow that had come before it as it had done to its predecessor. "No, Fenris, Sebastian and I are not getting married. He wishes to formally court me, but we both know it will fail. So he will stay, put up the pretense of courtship, and leave once we are both convinced that he will recieve no ridicule by his people. If nothing else, they will not be able to say he didn't try."

 

Fenris heard her words but he couldn't--wouldn't--believe it. Not because he no longer believed that she was a lying, hateful, decietful bitch, he did, but because he remembered how they had always been with one another those many years ago. More specifically, he remembered how Sebastian had been towards her all those years ago. Always a hair hore flirtatious and touchy with her than she was with him, watching her swaying hips out of the corner of his eye as they roamed around to complete one armenial task or another.

 

No, he believed that Hawke truly believed the words she was saying and conceded to the point that she had never gone and practiced with her bow unless she was truly stressed. The idea that Sebastian only wished to courther to placate his people was completely ludacris as far as he was concered however.

 

The thing that truly threw him though was why he cared so much. Why should the fact that Sebastian was formally courting Hawke bother him? Hell, why would the idea of anyone courting, marrying, touching, kissing...doing just about anything with or to Hawke bother him?

 

"I need to go," Fenris gruffed as he turned on his heel and walked away from her. He would eventually get around to answering those unnerving questions, but for now he just wanted to run away from them.


	13. Chapter 13

"Mommy!"

 

Hawke smiled in earnest for the first time that day as she kneeled down and scooped up her son and cradled him in her arms. Days like these, she felt that this was the only thing she truly understood. Everyone else had their issues, their baggage, their wants, their biases...but her son, her son just wanted to have fun, be happy, and be with his mother. Simple and pure if only for the time being. "What are you still doing up?" she said to the boy lightly, the genuine smile still on her lips as she spun around.

 

Little Fen giggled as he watched the room spin around as his nanny stepped forward. "He wanted you to read him a story and I knew you would be back soon, so I decided to just let him stay up a little later than usual."

 

Hawke smiled her thanks to the other woman. She had found the elven woman begging for a copper piece on the streets, having left the alienage in an attempt to carve out a life for herself and her baby sister. Their parents had been brutally murdered in a mugging gone wrong, leaving their two daughters to fend for themselves. Unfortunately in the alienage, a house losing its protectors wasn't something that was held sacred and Xye, Fen's seventeen-year-old nanny, and her eleven-year-old sister Kiye left in fear of meeting the same fate as their parents. Their original plan had been for Xye to get a job, rent a room at the cheapest place she could find, and save up until they could afford a more permanent home. But like it had for some many others and for reasons yet unknown, the Maker didn't wish for that to be what happened. 

 

In truth, little Fen had been the one to pick Xye out as a nanny. They had been walking the streets of Darktown in one of the many times Hawke had scheduled out so that she could become and stay aquainted with her people and the going-ons of her city when Fen had pulled himself out of her grip suddenly and run straight over to Xye and Kiye. The immediate panic that Hawke had felt was immediately soothed as she saw the two elven women playing with Fen as though he were their own. Gentle, kind, and full of smiles despite their horrid situation. As the three played, Hawke asked them their story.

 

Their shock at Hawke saying that she would like to hire Xye as Fen's nanny and give them both a free room in her estate was almost amusing. But here they were, nearly a year later and utterly irriplacable. She made sure that Kiye was busy by helping around where ever she was needed and didn't mind going. Then once every other week she would train Kiye as well as any and all who chose to come how to use either daggers or a bow and arrow. 

 

Other nobles told her she was foolish for teaching servants and civilians how to defend themselves, but no one could argue her reasoning as to why. Should Kirkwall ever fall again to an attack, be it from within or without, she did not want as many deaths to take place as it had with the Qunari and most of those deaths had simply been because so few knew how to defend themselves.

 

Lying her son down on his bed, she pulled the blankets up to cover him and sat at his feet. Leaning forward and propping herself up on one arm she looked at her son and asked, "So which story did you want to hear tonight then? One about the king and queen of Fereldan and how they defeated the Blight with their friends?"

 

Fen shook his head. "I want to hear a story about my daddy."

 

Hawke stilled, her lips thinning as she contemplated which story to tell the boy and whether or not to disclose his father's identity. "You and your father are very similar, you know. You both have white hair and naturally tanned skin, even your temperments. You both have the oddest sense of curiousity, wanting to know everything and yet being afraid of what you might find out. But the most admirable trait you both share is how well you know what life should be and your defiance to what it should not be.

 

"Your father was once a Tevinter slave to a cruel man. The magister that he served in Tevinter enjoyed to hurt and humiliate people and he enjoyed doing it to your father most of all. So one day he decided that he'd had enough and escaped. He was on the run for three years, traveling from country to country in an attempt to stay far away from his cruel master. Then one day he came to Kirkwall--"

 

"Where he met Mommy."

 

Hawke smiled. "Yes, where he met Mommy." And so she told him the story of how she and Fenris had first met, dropping a couple details here and there about how the two Fenrises were similar, hints as to who his father was but not enough for the boy to come to a definitive decision as to who it was.

 

Once little Fen had fallen asleep, Xye wandered back into the room and tapped Hawke on the shoulder. Hawke sat up and looked at the other woman.

 

"There is a man waiting for you in your chambers," she whispered.

 

Hawke nodded her thanks and kissed her son on the forehead, brushing aside a lock of his white hair. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in one day (or twenty-four hours or something like that), I'm on a roll! Just saw that on Chapter 7 I believe the last line got cut off--sorry about that. I fixed it, but good news is that it only cut off a couple sentences so no biggie. 
> 
> Love the love! Comment, kudo, bookmark, etc. Remember to tell me if you guys would like for certain things to happen in the story and chew me out if I mess up on something.

Hawke groaned, rolling her head around to losen up her neck and massaging her shoulders as she walked back to her room. The day had been unusually stressful having started out with meetings (aka, bitch-fests) with a couple of the local nobility, then gone on to the awkward scene with Fenris, only to end the day with three more "meetings" in which she had practically been attacked. The only blessings she could truly count were that Sebastian hadn't bothered her and that she had been able to be with her son.

 

 _So much for things coming in threes,_  she chuckled to herself as she opened her bedroom door and promptly went completely still.

 

Standing not a few feet in front of her was Fenris, his back slightly turned towards her. Arms crossed and feet planted shoulder-width apart, he looked over his shoulder and through the lock of white hair that had always fallen across the right side of his face directly into her eyes. He was dressed in one of the dozens of outfits she's had made for him, a simple white long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black trous all fitted neatly to his body so to avoid as much irritation with his markings as possible.

 

Closing the door behind her she asked, "So then I take it you're here to finish the job?"

 

"I'm not going to kill you."

 

Hawke jerked at his words, clearly surprised by his decision. Her only thought when she had seen him waiting for her in her room was that he had decided to go through with killing her. After all, what other reason would he have for being in her bedroom at such an hour? Her heart beat faster and heated pooled in between her legs at the only other reason she could come up with, but she quickly shook her head and dismissed the foolish notion. "I know I might be pressing my luck by asking, but why exactly don't you want to kill me?"

 

He narrowed his eyes and made a noise similar to a growl. "You're right, you are pushing your luck. It's not that I don't want to kill you it's that I won't."

 

Hawke nodded, unsure as to his reasoning but not willing to question it aloud any longer. She walked past him to her nightstand and pulled out a short night gown, lying it on her bed before turning back to Fenris who was now staring out the window adamantly. There had been wine on his breath and she could reasonably assume that it had taken him several glasses, or bottles, before he finally had been able to get himself to actually show up to her house let alone actually come to her room. "So why come to my room to tell me this at such an hour? Why not simply wait until the morning?" A beat of silence stretched between them and she sat on her bed next to the nightdress. "Are you leaving?" she whispered finally, her fear at the prospect clear in her voice.

 

Fenris took a deep breath to calm himself. "No. I don't know why I decided to come so late, I..." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter, now you know. Goodnight."

 

As he turned to leave Hawke reached out and grabbed on to the back of his shirt. She hadn't even realized that she had done the action and by the time she did it was far too late to take it back. He stopped and kept his eyes in front, refusing to look back down at her. "Please don't go, Fenris." Irrationally and for reasons she couldn't understand her eyes welled up with tears and her throat tightened. "Let's sit down and talk. Maker knows we have a lot to discuss."

 

Fenris screwed his eyes shut. They did have a lot to discuss, but to be alone with her the way they were now...with her nightgown lying in plain sight...it just spelled out trouble. "Fine," he said after a moment, still not having bothered to try and get his shirt out of Hawke's grasp. "But not here."

 

Hawke nodded. "Just name the place and I'll wash up and get dressed in something that doesn't scream 'Viscount' or 'nobility.'"

 

Fenris looked down to the ground in thought. The Hanged Man was far too crowded this time of night for anything they had to discuss privately to remain private without them renting a room. His estate was hardly an option. "The docks," he finally said. It was perfect--busy enough that they would never be fully alone, desolate at this time of night to give them some sense of privacy, and should anything they discuss become public later on they could either admit it to be the truth or deny it as just another silly rumour.

 

Hawke nodded, understanding of why he had chosen that area and thankful that he was even agreeing to speak with her semi-privately in the first place. "I'll get changed and meet you there."

 

Fenris nodded and, feeling her hand fall from his shirt, left.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the almighty TIM! (I had to, it just sounded so dramatic and I am a woman.) Also thanks to paulah. Both of your guys's reading and comments have really helped me get motivation to write these past few chapters.
> 
> Last but not least, thanks to the movie Act of Valor. The past four chapters have been written with two songs from it's soundtrack on repeat. Namely: 
> 
> Kieth Urban's "For You"  
> ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QMZM7nvxquM&feature=related )  
> Sugarland's "Guide You Home"  
> ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BFawf-mFfg&feature=related )

Wringing her hands nervously she walked down to the docks. She was not so worried about the crime anymore--Aveline had done much with the guard in hand with Hawke training anyone who wished to learn basic self defense and so the crime rate had dropped dramatically. Thugs did still wander the streets, however, and so Hawke carried her favorite recurve long bow and a quivver stocked full with arrows. Clad in one of her old dresses from when Fenris had traveled with her and the others, she looked more like the common rabble than Hawke, Viscount and Champion of Kirkwall. Her shoulder length hair swayed on her shoulders with each step. Upon seeing Fenris, she folded her hands behind her back so as to hide her constant nervous fidgetting.

 

Fenris watched her from the corners of his eyes, tense and warry and completely and utterly unsure of why he had agreed to meet with Hawke in the first place. The more he inspected Hawke as she made her way towards him the more he felt that it was a trap. The simple dress she wore had been one of his favorites those many years ago and he could tell even from a distance that she had done herself up a bit in the way that Isabella had taught her. Her lips were just slightly more red than normal but not overtly noticable, lashes accented by charcoal so that her eyes looked minutely larger. The overall sight made his heart beat just a tad faster and he cursed under his breath at his ridiculous reaction.

 

It seemed though that no matter what he did, his heart and body would betray him. For all that he hated her for what she had done, he still loved her though he loathed to admit it even to himself. No matter how much he wanted to watch her die a slow, painful death influcted by his own hands, he also wanted to cradle and kiss her. He even wanted to take her, own her body and soul as he had that one fateful night, make her cry out in ecstacy.

 

Why had he walked out on her that night anyhow? He had been fully dressed and ready to go when she happened to wake up, a sheer fluke, so it hadn't been because he suddenly felt shy or awkward. He had planned on leaving whether she woke up or not. So why did he leave her? _Memories._ That's right, he had left because of memories. Though which memories exactly he couldn't recall for the life of him. Disembodied smells and sensations, ideas and voices on repeat within his mind.

 

He screwed his eyes shut as he struggled to remember the events of that night, though if he were homest with himself he struggled more with keeping those memories at bay.

 

By why had they come then? It hadn't been from the actual sex that the fragmented memories had come to him but instead from the aftermath. They had come to him after she had fallen asleep in his arms, her warm body nestled up to his, her soft breathing the only sound in the room other than the comforting crackle of the fire. And while he watched her peaceful face slumber the most wonderful, nameless feeling filled his heart warming him from within. He had smiled then, a soft genuine smile, and nuzzled the back of her neck as he inhaled the sweet aroma of her hair.

 

His eyes snapped open wide. _That_  had been what triggered the memories. Not just one thing but a culmination fo things: the feeling of complete love that had washed over him like a warm blanket, the feeling of being close to a loved one, the homely sound of a fire burning throughout the night. Had he been better prepared for such a sudden rush of memories he would have enjoyed and relished it, but unprepeared as he had been he reflexively moved off of the bed and away from the sources.

 

By the time he had dressed he stopped to wonder exactly what exactly it had been that he remembered. With a hand on the mantle he stared into the fire as though it alone could actually give him the answeres he so desired. And then everything had gone to the Void. Hawke had woken just as he had begun feeling thoroughly sorry for himself and he had chosen his words poorly, then run away like a coward. He could still hear her shouts choked with tears as she screamed after him to leave, proclaiming that he had used her. At the time he had truly believed she only felt that way because he was an elf, but looking back he knew that she hadn't given a nug's ass if he were elf, Qunari, human, or dwarf, noble, common, or slave. Simply put, she loved him for being him. Nothing more, nothing less. 

 

They had both behaved as fools that night. He could try and dance around it or sugar-coat it as much as he pleased but at the end of the day that was the simple truth of it. But it still didn't excuse her actions.

 

"Fenris," Hawke said in way of greeting.

 

He looked at her from the corner of his eye, keeping his body so that it wasn't fully facing her. "What did you want to discuss?"

 

Her cheeks flushed and she looked down to her feet.  She opened her mouth to speak but no sooner had she uttered a singular syllable than an arrow flew through the air right between their heads.


	16. Chapter 16

 In scant seconds they were surrounded by bandits yet again, just as they had been so many times before in years past. Recurve readied and greatsword flashing menicingly in the dull light of the street lights the two began to carve their way to safety, Fenris and his sword getting up and personal and Hawke carefully aiming arrows to take out enemy after enemy before they even had a chance to get within five feet of either Hawke or Fenris.

 

It was easy for them to follow back into their old pattern. Fighting along side one another, the automatic trust that one formed with those they had fought with for years naturally returned. Fenris, glowing with both rage and relief, was a blur moving across the battlefield and slicing down enemy after enemy. Hawke moved swiftly and with ease, drawing arrow after arrow as she aimed and hit the targets, wincing at the sharp impact of the bow string to her arm. Even after years of having used the bow she had almost always wore a wrist guard or gauntlet of some sort and so the string hadn't come snapping back with fifty plus pounds of pressure directly on to her arm.

 

Fenris looked over to where Hawke was and watched as a man came running up from behind her, knife brandished in his hand and eyes locked with deadly intent upon Hawke. Without a second thought he rushed forward and wrapped his arm around Hawke, moving her slightly behind him as he ran his greatsword through the man.

 

For a moment, Hawke's wide blue eyes and Fenris' odd green eyes locked. Hers filled with shock, hope, and desire at having his body so close to hers; his reflecting hers, but also with the oddest form of anger as he silently cursed himself for feeling desire for her even then. Had they not been so well versed in the way of battle they would have simply forgotten that anyone or anything was going on around them.

 

"Fenris!" Hawke gasped and moved abruptly out of his arm, spinning around so that she stood directly in between him and the impending arrow meant for his arm. She gritted her teeth against the sudden impact and shock of pain, quickly readying her bow and firing an arrow in response to the other archer. With a satisfying crunch that she could hear even from nigh thirty feet away, the man crumpled to the ground lifelessly, his bones snapping and crunching as his body tumbled from the top of the building to the ground.

 

Now glowing with pure outrage, Fenris continued to rush against the few remaining opponents, beheading them and slicing open their entrails in his rage. He didn't stop to question why he was so enraged--perhaps it was because he tended not to take kindly to attempts on his life, perhaps it was because Hawke had literally taken the arrow for him and he wasn't sure what to make of it--either way he didn't care at that moment. The only thing he cared to do was utilize his anger, his fury, to make all of the bandits and lowlifes pay with their lives.

 

The whole thing was over within scant minutes and, once she was satisfied that all of the offenders had been thoroughly done away with and the danger had passed, she went over to the bodies closest to her and begun searching.  All in all she counted nearly thirty bodies and couldn't help but find the sheer number exorbitant. The average mugging parties only had around ten to twelve, depending on the area of town and general success. After all, splitting the loot even ten ways wasn't exactly the way to strike it rich. Her breath, ragged and strained, echoed in her ears as she went through the pockets of yet another body. She was faintly away of the pain radiating throughout her body but she stubbornly pushed it aside.

 

"Looks like you've made some enemies."

 

Hawke looked up at Fenris with a raised eyebrow and a smirk plastered on her face and took the folded note in her hand. For a second it felt to Fenris as though they had been transported through time and that they were once again the two commoners fighting their way through the streets of Kirkwall in order to make a living. "I just love being popular," she said in her old dry sarcasm. "Just look at the surprises and presents you recieve."

 

Finally allowing herself to crumple to the floor, she opened the note and read its contents.

 

_The other half of the payment will be given to you when, and only when, Elizabeth Hawke falls dead. Don't worry she will give you plenty of opportunity as she is prone to walking the streets alone in order to become "better aquainted with her people." Should you see the opportunity to kill the elven noble as well I will double the pay._

 

_\--R._

 

Hawke groaned and leaned back. It was just what she needed, yet another attempt on her life. She had hoped that the people of Kirkwall, noble or commoner, would have ceased such efforts when she became the Viscount. But her luck had never been the best and she assumed it never would be. Mentally adding it to her list of things to look into and take care of, she slowly stood, gasping at the sharp pain she endured as she did so.

 

Fenris' eyes widened as he watched herself pull herself back to a standing position and berated himself for having not noticed the placement of the arrow earlier. An arrow protruded from her stomach, blood having been soaked into her dress and now dripping from her dress to her feet. Even for Hawke, such a wound was bad news. 

 

And she had taken the arrow for him.

 

The full realization hit him with a pang of mixed emotions, as he seemed to have about everything lately.

 

Everything was spinning and even the sound of her own breathing sounded as though it was coming through a tunnel. _Odd,_  she thought. _Wonder why..._  And then she looked down at the source of the searing white-hot pain. "Oh, that's why," she murmered just before she blacked out.


	17. Chapter 17

"I'm fine! Honestly, Bea, you'd think I'd never suffered a wound in my life with the way you're acting."

 

The elderly elven woman that Hawke had met in the alienage six months ago and immediately decided to hire her on as a city nurse placed her hands on her narrow hips. "Well pardon me, missere, but stomach wounds generally aren't the best of things. You're just lucky the arrow hadn't penitrated anything but your appendix. If it had been even so much as two inches to the left you wouldn't be able to laugh it off as easily."

 

Hawke smiled mischieviously to the older woman. "Nonsense, have you heard my bad sense of humor? I'd laugh off anything if only for kicks."

 

Bea rolled her eyes and waved a hand dismissively. "Just make sure to put that salve on the wound every night before bed, alright? And you're to remain on bedrest for a week. I mean it!" Bea excalimed in frustration at Hawke's blatant eyeroll. "Viscount or not I'll come and tie you to the bed myself if I catch wind of you so much as going for a stroll outside. You have a privvy close enough and any water and food you need can be brought to you."

 

Watching the whole exchange was completely and utterly...surreal. All Fenris had seen of Hawke since his return had been a serious, remorseful Hawke--a Hawke he didn't know and still had trouble fathoming. He had mourned the sarcastic, jokester Hawke he had known in his own way. He knew that Hawke, knew what to expect if only partially.

 

He immediately liked Bea, though. She was kind and gentle as healers were wont to be but also fiesty and gusty enough to put the mighty Champion of Kirkwall, the Viscount Hawke in her place. There were not many that he could name off willing to do that.

 

"You." Fenris blinked and looked up to Bea as she turned to him, a solitary finger pointed directly at him. Her pale grey-blue eyes examined his green ones. "You're to watch over her. She took that arrow for you, the least you can do is watch over her as she heals. Do you understand me?"

 

Had the command come from anyone else it would have thoroughly annoyed him just as the command itself put him on edge. Speaking to Hawke semi-privately was one thing, but watching over her for the minimum of a week as she healed...that was an entirely different matter. "Why don't you just fully heal her now with your magic?" he asked in attempt to widdle his way out of watching over Hawke.

 

Bea looked at him sharply and narrowed her eyes, sweeping her hand across the room to indicate the other patients present. "She is not the only one that needs healing at the time being. In fact she isn't even the worst of what I will have to handle today and I've not money enough to go buying a multitude of lyrium potions. If you want to take her to another healer then be my guest, but getting her to allow anyone else to work magic on her will be a fight and a half mark my words."

 

Fenris looked over to Hawke with a raised eyebrow. It was yet again a matter of the Hawke he had known and the Hawke she was now. Years ago when they had fought together regularly she hadn't cared who healed her if she was gravely wounded, she simply let healers do their jobs. Granted it was mostly Anders who had healed her. But now she wouldn't let anyone but Bea heal her? Even then he suspected that part of the reason the old elf wouldn't heal her fully was because of some protest that Hawke had made prior to the current incident. Which begged two questions: 1) Exactly how frequently did Hawke have to be carried into Bea's clinic? and 2) When had Hawke started refusing to allow Bethany to heal her and why?

 

Hawke shrugged her shoulders and then promptly winced as a shot of pain lanced through her. Fenris sighed in resignation and walked over to Hawke, throwing one of her arms over his shoulders and wrapping an arm around her waist, his hand automatically resting posessively on her hip. Bea saw the action and raised an eyebrow at the young man, her lips curling into a knowing smile. Fenris glared in response, silently communicating to Bea that she didn't know anything even close to the whole story. To which she simply chuckled and walked away to tend to her other patients.

 

Grumbling to himself about old women and their false conclusions, he and Hawke hobbled out of the city-funded clinic, nodding to the Templars posted just inside the door constantly watching Bea as they left. He would have to ask her how she had arranged such a set up later.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I need a beta reader, or I need to stop writing these chapters at one in the morning. Just read over the last two chapters and noticed how many spelling and grammar mistakes a did. Yucky.

"What did you do to Mommy?"

 

"Fenris! You behave right this instant! What did I tell you about jumping to conclusions?"

 

"But he hurt you before, Mommy! He's a mean man!"

 

"Fenris Leto, we discussed this! He was only mean to me because I had been mean to him and rightfully deserved it. That man saved my life. Had he not been there I very well may have been killed. Now you go appologize to him right now or I swear by the Maker...!"

 

This was going to get confusing _fast_. Fenris Leto...his two given names. That she had named their son even one of his names had been enough to thoroughly shock him, but both of them?

 

Dragging his feet, his son shuffled over to him and, locking his angry glare to the floor, said, "I'm sorry..."

 

"Fenris. My name is Fenris," he said in a state of shock.

 

The boy looked up suddenly, anger gone, innocent smile spreading across his face. "My name is Fenris too! My Mommy says I'm named after my father."

 

"Does she now?" he said as he glanced up to the bed-ridden Hawke, warm, loving eyes locked on her son, a small proud smile across her lips.

 

"Come on Fen, we should leave your mom alone so she can rest,"  Xye said from the doorway, hands folded plaintively in front of her. The child pouted but listened all the same, waving goodnight to his mother as Xye shut the door behind them, casting an inquisitive glance towards Fenris as she did so.

 

"I'm sorry about Fen," Hawke said after a moment. "He means well but he can be very abrasive. I think he gets it from his father."

 

Fenris grunted in way of response before making his way to the fire. Hawke's room was just as it had been that fateful night so many years ago. Which got him thinking... "You haven't changed anything in this room, it would seem."

 

Hawke shook her head. "There wasn't any reason to. The furniture is still good and the room suits my mood most days."

 

Fenris stood and allowed that to be absorbed for a moment, wondering mutely if it was still within the room. A scar from the night they had shared, hidden from view but always present. Slowly he made his way to one of the curtains and lifted it up.

 

Hawke abruptly gasped. "The cutains! What happened?"

 

Raising an eyebrow Fenris looked at her incredulously. "You never noticed?"

 

"Noticed that my curtains were torn? No, I hadn't thought to go inspecting them."

 

Reaching up he pulled out a scrap of red cloth that he had hidden within an inner shirt pocket.

 

Hawke furrowed her eyebrows. "That's..."

 

"The cloth I used to keep around my wrist."

 

"I had wondered where you had gotten this...I thought perhaps a scarf or something, but you're saying--"

 

"That I ripped it from the curtains."

 

The night passed as such: each of them asking the other questions and recieving answers accordingly.

 

"Why did you give our son both of my given names?"

 

"Same reason I named him Fenris--a part of me hoped that I could make up for the wrongs I did to you by doing right by him. Where did you get my family crest from when you wore it about your waist?"

 

"There was a merchant in Hightown that sold them. I'd imagine he still does. How did you arrange it for Bea to be able to have her own clinic and no be persecuted by the Templars?"

 

"Because she is part of the circle. Six months ago I found her hiding out in the alienage and convinced her to turn herself over to the tower. I ensured that she would be able to heal the people of Kirkwall through a city-funded clinic in hopes that it would lessen the tensions between mages and non-mages, if only just a little bit. Made a lot of enemies doing so, but I can't say I particularly give a shit."

 

"Why won't you let people work magic on you any more?"

 

"I let people work healing magic on me."

 

"Only enough to keep you from bleeding out or dying. Now answer the question."

 

"I think I should get some sleep."

 

Fenris gritted his teeth at her refusal to answer his question, hissing out "Fine" as he walked from the room.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo I've been MIA for a while. That funny thing called life kinda came up and took my attention. But! I'm back. And posting stuff again. Enjoy you guys!
> 
> By the way, thank you to Ghost_Nappa who not only kudo-ed but book marked...plus you made me laugh when I read the name. Immediately thought of Team Four Star and DBZ Abridged. If you haven't seen it...see it...like now. Also thank you to Langela137 who has also bookmarked while I was away. Love the love!

“I told you I’m fine!”

 

“I’m not letting you out of bed again so Beatrice will come stalking up here again to find you missing and yell at me!”

 

“Like you’ve ever been afraid of yelling. Now let me out of this damn bedroom, I need to get some work done!”

 

“Kirkwall will survive a couple days of you working from your damn bed.”

 

“This isn’t working this is sitting on my arse and doing nothing!”

 

From outside the door the servants gathered, Kiye among them, couldn’t help but snicker at the fighting. It had been happening every morning since the other day when Fenris had simply let the Viscount walk from her room and to her usual study across High Town and Beatrice had happened to pick that day to check up on the renownedly bull-headed Hawke. So it had become a source of entertainment for servants of both the Viscount and Hawke household to gather together outside of the door and listen in with muffled laughter. It was not often that anyone got to hear the leader of Kirkwall so flustered and even less often to hear anyone outside of Aveline challenge her so.

 

“If this isn’t love I don’t know what is,” Kiye whispered to another one of the girls with a hushed giggle, causing the rest of the group to collectively giggle or snicker in turn.

 

“Now I know you aren’t all bringing the Viscount her breakfast seeing as only one of you has the tray and I’m bringing her the updates and news of the city…so I can’t quite figure out what the rest of you are doing, huddled about  like this.”

 

The voice of the Guard Captain Aveline caused the muffled laughter to quiet immediately and all of the sets of eyes hurriedly went down to the floor as all but the one carrying the food tray scuttled away. Walking up with a raised eyebrow and a stern expression, Aveline tucked the roll of papers under her arm and reached out for the tray. The servant handed it over, looking appropriately abashed at her actions. As soon as she was freed of her charge she hurried after the others and Aveline couldn’t help but laugh a bit at it all as she managed to open the door with one hand only to find that the fighting between Hawke and Fenris had far from died down.

 

“Aveline, thank the Maker! Tell him—tell him how I’m perfectly fine to go down to the Keep and work.”

 

“Hawke, no,” Aveline said as she set the tray down on the desk, removing the scrolled parchment and setting it down next to it before looking over towards the thoroughly flustered woman sitting on the very edge of the bed. “You took an arrow and refused healing. You need to allow your body to recover.”

 

“It’s hardly as though this is the first time it’s ever happened,” Hawke whined, crossing her arms across her chest like a spoiled child.

 

Shaking her head Aveline waved a hand towards the documents and food. “Eat. I’ve brought you some things to read: ledgers, complaints, proposals, the things you enjoy the most. Fenris…” Turning towards the elf who had been standing in the corner of the room, silently observing and chastising Hawke with his eyes though Aveline doubted the stir-crazy woman had noticed. “Come with me. I believe it’s time we spoke.”

 

Grumbling to herself as the elven man walked towards the guard captain, Hawke went to the desk and flopped down. Opening the scrolled parchment she brought a spoon of the soup to her lips and began reading, engrossed before Aveline had even closed the door behind herself and Fenris. “Down in the main room,” she instructed as she made her way to the stairs, chainmail clinking with every movement. 


	20. Chapter 20

The main room of the Hawke estate was lit with a fire, still new if the state of the wood was any indicator. Before the fire sat two chairs as though somehow the meeting between the Captain of the Guard and the first formal elven noble of Kirkwall had been expected. With a glance towards the steady-paced Aveline, Fenris truly wouldn’t have been surprised at all if the woman had in fact ensured that the room had been prepared for them.   
  
Glancing around the room he couldn’t help but notice a distinct lack of servants. All doors that led to the room were conveniently closed and outside of the crackle of the fire and clink of Aveline’s armour, silence reigned. Turning to face the elf over her shoulder, Aveline waved towards the chairs before taking a seat herself. But he stayed standing, something in the woman’s expression setting him on edge, instead deciding to lean against the fireplace and cross his arms to keep himself from tapping his fingers against the stone. “Well?” he finally asked, his tone sharper than intended from unlabeled feelings welling up in him in response to her stare. “What is it?”   
  
Leaning forward, Aveline laced her fingers together and turned her eyes towards the fire, her flame-red hair and less-than-perfectly-polished armour glinting in the light. “There are some things you don’t understand,” she finally began after a long moment of silence. “Those years ago, when Hawke betrayed you...there’s something you don’t know. Something even I didn’t know until some time after it happened.”   
  
He didn’t like where this was heading. He didn’t like it at all. His foot began tapping as his nerves slowly but progressively became frayed, dragon claws tearing at something within him too deep and personal to place a name on.   
  
Taking a deep breath, Aveline continued, “She won’t tell you because she sees it as her biggest failing and whether she consciously recognises it or not, she wants to keep punishing herself for it. She never told me everything that transpired between you two that one night, but she did tell me that she knew you would never take your freedom into your own hands the way it was then. You had given your word the first night that you two met that you would help her and you held that to yourself like a binding spell, even when you openly loathed her sympathy with the mages. She had felt that you were only there because of some twisted sense of dependency.”   
  
He wanted so desperately to snap at her and tell her that such hadn’t been the case, that he hadn’t only been with Hawke because he felt he had to, but he knew even before the sentences fully formed in his mind that they were lies if only to a degree. He had only stayed with Hawke for that reason at the beginning, but as time had gone on he had seem her for who she was and so subtly he hadn’t even been sure it was happening at first, he fell for her. Then he had stayed because of that – because he loved her and a part of him so large he thought he couldn’t live without it demanded that she be in his life, demanded that she be his.   
  
“She had set something up,” Aveline continued, oblivious to the silent torment that only increased with every word she spoke. “She thought...Maker, who knew what she had thought? But she had paid a group of people to find her on a mission, on that mission, and impersonate Trevinter slavers and demand to take you with them. She had sent them a letter telling them when and where to find you lot before you left that day, along with their payment.”   
  
_No, no, no, no, no..._   
  
“Their instructions had been to just get you out of Kirkwall and leave you in the dead of night, leaving you a coin purse that she had instructed them to hold for you as well as a week’s supply of food and water and let you choose from there – let you truly and freely choose your path, without any promises or contracts. But something happened, she never really said what probably out of some sense of shame, and...well, you know what happened then.”   
  
Panic began rising from within him, an unspeakable and unshakeable need to run making his hands shake even as his eyes widened and his lips parted slightly. It felt like his entire world was shattering. But it made sense, a sickening, nauseating sense. He knew Aveline; she wasn’t the kind to stay by the side of the Hawke that had so grossly betrayed him. And yet she had. She had stayed by Hawke’s side as devoutly as any real friend would.   
  
Finally she looked back at him, her emerald green eyes meeting his own green hues, silently pleading for him to listen to her and know her words to be true. Because she had no reason to lie and that was perhaps the most earth-shattering truth of it all.   
  
“Aveline.”   
  
The choked voice startled him and together both he and Aveline looked up at the railing of the second floor, at the figure of Hawke standing there with her chin held as high as she could muster and emotion causing her cheeks to flush. Within her eyes warred her desire for Aveline to spill her secrets for her and the cry for Aveline to stop. Had Fenris not been so consumed with his own emotions at the time, he would have seen as much, but he didn’t. Aveline, however, seemed to silently understand and with a small nod to Hawke the armoured woman pushed herself up from her seat and looked back at Fenris. “It’s alright, go, do what you must. I’ll watch over Hawke for a while.”   
  
He didn’t stay long enough to hear what she said, the choked whisper of his name from Hawke’s lips playing over and over in his head as he ran from the house.


	21. Chapter 21

“You had no right,” Hawke said. Even in as much of a daze as she was in, the authority in her voice was commendable. It was times like these that reminded Aveline why it was that Hawke made such a good Viscount. Had the Captain been a lesser woman, she might have even ducked her head and apologised to the gimping Viscount as she slowly made her way towards the stairs and down towards the main room.  
  
“Please Hawke, get back into bed."  
  
 _“You had no right.”  
  
_ This time Aveline shot a glare towards the wounded woman, clenching her hands into fists as she stormed up the stairs to go nose-to-nose with Hawke. “Someone had to tell him what happened, Hawke, and you seemed more interested in either having him kill you or just plain getting yourself killed. He deserves to know! Or are you still so selfish and self-centred that you really think you know what’s best?”  
  
Hawke’s cheeks flamed at her friend’s words, so wrong and yet so right.  
  
Shaking her head, Aveline wrapped an arm around Hawke’s waist and began leading her dear friend back towards the room. “Besides, I only told him enough. I left everything else up to you but I knew he needed to hear some of it. It was cruel for you to let him be here for so long without knowing even that much.”  
  
Ducking her head, dark strands creating a curtain over her face, Hawke muttered miserably, “I know...”  
  
Aveline shook her head once more at the woman. “Just...if you’re going to punish yourself, try leaving him out of it would you? Now would you please get back into bed and eat? We have documents to review.” At the slight wrinkling of Hawke’s nose, barely visible through her curtain of hair, Aveline smirked. “Hey no complaining – you were the one who was complaining not an hour ago that you wanted to work.”  
  
“Yeah yeah.”  
  
~       ~         ~  
  
He didn’t need wine, not yet. Perhaps once he came down from whatever horrible high this was he would drain a barrel or ten, but right now he needed the wind, needed to feel it rushing past him as he ran. Long strands of silver-white hair gently whipping his ears, he ran from the city limits, farther and farther until he reached the dark and dusty roads commonly used for trading routes. Without warning, he was distinctly aware of how much less crime filled the streets and desperately wished it wasn’t so. When he had occupied this town so long ago, he couldn’t walk through the streets without running into would-be muggers and he always had the option of running his hands or hands through someone’s chest and on more than a few nights he had used that as a way of coping with his mostly unknown and unexamined feelings. But now that coping mechanism was denied to him and he was left with the feeling of being utterly lost and clueless as to what to do with himself.  
  
Her choked sob echoed in his mind: _Fenris..._ A silent plea somewhere within the notes of her voice, too far for him to think much on but too close for him to ignore.  
  
Aveline’s green eyes asking him to please understand what she was saying, to understand and realise that there was so much more to it than she could tell him.  
  
But the implications of those pleas were lost in noise as the echo of the story Aveline had told downed out everything but his feelings and created wave after wave of emotion, unpleasant in its overwhelming nature and yet so desperately needed that even through his blood lust he knew he was building something. What, he had no idea, but he was building something.  
  
He needed answers. He needed to hear the story.  
  
Before he could even fully register what he was doing, he turned on his heel and began running back to Kirkwall.  
  
He needed Hawke.  
  
~         ~          ~  
  
She was asleep by the time he reached the house again. Even from outside of the large house he could tell, her breathing somehow distinctive to him, and despite how desperately he needed answers, he couldn’t bring himself to wake her at such an hour only to repeat to him a story he wasn’t sure he was fully ready to hear.  
  
So he turned around and made his way almost leisurely towards the tavern where he had spent so much of his time before and where he was sure the next best person would be to help colour in the lines that Aveline had drawn.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you guys think, ok? :) Comment, kudo, bookmark, and all that fun stuff please.


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